


If/Then

by AKA_47



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Finale flashback
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 00:12:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2792750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKA_47/pseuds/AKA_47
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I can’t, Charlie. Jim is the one you want.”<br/>Charlie didn't manage to convince Mac to take over News Night, but some things are just fated, and Will and Mac always find their way to each other in the end. Based on finale flashbacks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If/Then

**Author's Note:**

> When I watched the finale I couldn't help but think how easy it would have been for Mac not to take Charlie up on his offer. This is my take on what would have happened if that phone conversation turned out differently. For the sake of logistics, the show Lunch is in New York. I don't know where it was supposed to be, really. The title is taken from the musical of the same name.

“It’s Mackenzie.”

Mac wasn’t even sure that her mind was made up as the phone was ringing, and she wished she could hang up now, but Charlie had picked up, and it was too late. It had seemed like the only thing to do, call while she still had the nerve, before she looked at the YouTube video and began to think that she could do this again. One moment, one line written on a notepad did not mean that she could do this, and if she looked at the video she would forget, forget that life was different now, that _she_ was different now.

“Mackenzie.”

She took a deep breath, calming her pounding heart. “Call Jim.”

“Excuse me?”

Mac bit her lip, “Jim Harper. He’s the best I know. He’ll give you the show you want.”

“Mackenzie, I came to you because I believe _you’re_ the only person who can right this ship. I really wish--”

Mac held up her hand to stop him before she realized he couldn’t see her through the phone. “I _can’t,_ Charlie. Jim is the one you want.”

She hung up before he could say another word, wrapping her hands around her knees, laying her cheek atop them. Will McAvoy hadn’t tried to contact her in years, not when she threw herself into a warzone, not when she was stabbed. What she had done to him was horrible, maybe even unforgivable, but he hadn’t even tried to listen, and that was inexcusable too. She was so damn tired of fighting. She was tired of proving herself and fighting battles, she was tired of anxiety attacks and sleepless nights. It was time to rest. It was time to do Lunch and just stop _trying_ so hard.

Somewhere in the back of her mind a voice shouted that she was too young to give up. She ignored it.

\---

“Who the fuck is that kid?” Will pushed his way into Charlie’s office.

Charlie looked up from his computer, taking his glasses off and rubbing his nose. “Do you really want an answer? We both know you’ll forget in two minutes.”

“Very funny. Who is he?”

Charlie sighed, “His name’s Jim Harper. He came highly recommended.”

Will rolled his eyes. “From who? His high school TV production teacher? He’s twelve!”

Charlie stood up. This conversation was going to need a drink. He poured one for the two of them and offered the glass to Will. “Who’s in high school at twelve? He’s not. A very respected EP pointed me in his direction.”

Will took a sip from his glass, barely covering an indignant snort. “And you couldn’t get this ‘very respected EP’ to do the show? You’re losing your touch Charlie.”

Charlie couldn’t help but smirk. “I think it has more to do with you, Will.”

Will flung his hands up in exasperation. “What did I do to _this_ guy, Charlie?”

Charlie’s smirk widened, only vaguely aware that he shouldn’t be enjoying this. “Girl actually. It was a woman.”

“Who?” Will demanded.

Charlie leaned against the desk, the better to see his reaction. “Mackenzie McHale.”

He wasn’t disappointed. Will sat, a look of dumbfounded disbelief plain on his face. “Mackenzie?” He asked. “You went to Mackenzie with this?”

Charlie nodded, not at all ashamed. “I offered her the job. She turned it down. She seemed to think you would give her a hard time, that you don’t care what she thinks of you.”

They sat in silence for a few seconds, and Charlie watched as Will processed the words. Anger switched to disbelief, shock, confusion, before turning to anger again.

“Damn right I don’t!” He blustered, not at all convincingly. He stood up, thrusting his drink into Charlie’s hand and storming out of the office.

\---

Mac fucking hated her job. She despised the pop culture chatter, discussed like it was actual _news_ , like it was important what Justin Bieber did on any given day, like the world was somehow changed by what was trending on Twitter. She hated that the audience lapped it up, like they were starved for inane entertainment when that was all that surrounded them 24/7. Most of all, she loathed walking past the ACN building every day and knowing that the life she could have had was right there.

Jim was doing a good job. It wasn’t perfect, but they weren’t doing whole segments on the weather anymore, and no one had mentioned _24_ since he took over. Will still didn’t ask the tough follow ups. He didn’t step on any toes, he was still in a one man contest to be “most likeable” but she knew that Jim was trying. She loved when he called her to ask her questions. She found that she knew a little bit about how to handle Will, that she hadn’t forgotten how to in their years apart. She could picture his reactions so clearly it startled her. It depressed her.

She was drinking more than she should have been. She knew that. She also knew that she didn’t need even half her brain cells to produce the show that she was doing. She drank and she tried not to remember how she used to spar with Will, the arguments that really meant something, made her feel something. She didn’t feel much of anything anymore, hadn’t since she’d left Afghanistan. Drinking helped. Until it didn’t. It was a minute of forgetting how shitty her life had become before it came flooding back.

Mac walked into Hang Chews, scanning for Jim. He’d finally bullied her into coming out with the group from News Night. She knew (hoped) that Will would never come to a place like that, especially not to hang out with the staff. In the old days he would have. She would have teased him until he came out, and he would have ended up buying drinks for all of them. She could see even through the TV that he was pretending not to care, but she knew it was only because he was afraid to care too much. It was in Will’s DNA to throw himself whole heartedly into relationships, to be friend or brother or… _the best damn boyfriend she’d ever had._ He was denying his DNA, trying to rearrange it, make himself less than he was.

He was scared. He was so God damn scared. She knew the feeling. She’d been scared for years, even more now that she was finally home and had no fucking idea what her next move should be, how to _stop_ being scared.

“Mac!” Jim called, waving her over. She forced herself to smile at him, walking slowly and deliberately, trying not to let it show that she’d had to have drinks at another place just to work up the nerve to come here.

“Mac?” The voice stopped her cold. A shiver ran down her spine as she turned to see Will seated at the bar. She must have been a sight to see because he stood up, coming to her instead of waiting for her to make a move.

He stood close enough to see her face, his own slipping into an expression of concern. “Jesus, are you okay?”

Mackenzie swallowed hard, feeling distinctly light headed as she nodded. Will touched her elbow, light, uncertain, enough. Enough to make her vision swim. She swayed and Will’s grip grew decidedly more firm as he guided her over to the bar, helping her onto a stool.

“Sorry,” she said, swiping at her bangs. “I just didn’t expect to see you here.”

Will shrugged, still looking at her with eyebrows drawn together, like he was afraid she might break. She smiled, touching his hand briefly. _There. Friendly. Detached. Normal._ “It’s good to see you.”

“Is it?” He sounded unconvinced. “How have you been? Jim told me you were doing Lunch.” He tilted his head to the side as though still trying to make sense of the information and Mac forced a laugh.

“It’s a little vacation from being shot at. And you? The show’s been good.”

“You watch the show?” His shock was obvious.

“Don’t sound so surprised. I’m not the one who wrote you off, Billy.”

She tried to ignore how he cringed at the nickname. He drew as far away from her as he could. “I’m not the one--” he spoke with his eyes cast to the bar, his voice low and angry, “never mind.”

“I know,” Mac sighed, signaling for the bartender.

“Drinking won’t help, you know.” She looked over to see him scrutinizing her and felt the blush bloom in her cheeks.

“I’m not…” she started, but she knew that he would never believe her, so she changed tact, “it’s not a permanent thing. I’m just waiting for life to suck less.”

Will nodded, but she didn’t like the look in his eyes, like she was scaring him. He couldn’t hide it, couldn’t hide much from her. It had been her job once to interpret his expressions, to guess his thoughts before he did. It had been her job and then it had been her choice, and now she couldn’t forget it.

“You were stabbed.”

Mac tapped her fingers on the bar, fidgeting in her seat, “yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

Mac sighed, casting her eyes to the ceiling as though in prayer. “Billy,” she didn’t wait for the flinch to start again, “ _Will,_ stop being so nice to me. I know you hate me. You aren’t obligated to make small talk. I’ll just go say hi to Jim and make my exit. You can stay here with your team.”

She turned to go, but then his hand was on the small of her back, and it felt as though every nerve in her body were on fire. Slowly, very slowly, she looked back at him.

“I came here for you,” he admitted, not quite looking at her eyes, his gaze falling somewhere near her nose instead. “Jim told me you were coming. I’ve never set foot in this place before. I came here for you.”

“Why?” The word was more lost in her throat than out in the open, but he caught it anyway.

“Charlie told me you were exhausted. He told me he was worried about you, that you…weren’t doing well when he met you. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He looked embarrassed to say it, but his eyes flicked to hers at the end, and she couldn’t help the little sob that tore its way out of her throat.

“And?” She asked, voice thick with emotion.

“And I don’t think you are.”

“At least you’re honest.”

“Mac.” He used to have a way of making her feel better, of making her feel protected and competent at the same time. She used to know that he would have her back. Everything seemed possible with Will by her side. Back then, he would have brushed a kiss into her hair. She could feel it now, the phantom press of his lips. In reality she had only his eyes on her.

“I’ve been better,” she admitted when his gaze started to make her feel exposed.

Will nodded, and something in his expression shifted, became more defined. “You’re going to be my EP,” he said as if it was decided.

“What? Have you lost your mind? Jim is your EP. I have a job. You. I can’t—you hate me…”

“Stop saying that.” He sounded almost mad. Mac’s heart did a backflip.

“I don’t hate you.” He said, softer now, “I may not be your biggest fan,” he smiled a little to take the edge off, and she couldn’t help but smile back, “but I don’t hate you. The truth is you’re the best EP in the business. You’re much better than the show you’re doing, and a hell of a lot more qualified to do my show than that kid over there.”

He jerked his head over to Jim, who had sat down with the rest of the staff, but was keeping a wary eye on them. “It was his idea. He’ll take over as senior producer. He would take a bullet for you Mac.”

“He did,” Mac said, her voice a hoarse whisper. She beamed at Jim.

“All right.” Will said. “You definitely need to talk to someone about all of that.” He gestured widely to indicate all of the stuff that had happened in the time since he’d last seen her. “I can recommend someone. I want you as my EP, but I _need_ you to get your life together.” He stood up, throwing down money for the drink that he barely touched and offering his hand to help her down.

His job done, Will turned to go, ready to dismiss all that he’d just done for her as nothing at all, ready to pretend that he wasn’t a good guy. “Will?”

He glanced back at her. “You don’t have to do this just because _I_ need to feel like myself again.”

Will smiled at her. It was a sad smile, one that told her he was thinking of a time when their relationship was less complicated, when he could smile, _really_ smile at her, and mean it with all of his heart. “That’s exactly why I need to do it.”

All at once the world felt more solid under Mackenzie’s feet. It wasn’t that he had promised perfection, a world where everything would be easy between them, where he wouldn’t feel hurt when he looked at her, but he had promised a future. It was one where she got to do the news, _with him_ , and a president of the news division who actually cared about integrity. Whether he’d meant to or not, Will had given her hope, and she would hold onto that. It was all she needed, for now, all she needed to start to rebuild Mackenzie McHale.

 

 


End file.
